The Most Important Relationship

It happened while I was under 6 feet of water. A tightness started in my throat, and moved down into my chest. The cells in my body were starving for air, and every bodily impulse I felt was telling me to claw frantically to get to the surface. I wasn't drowning, but my brain was telling me that I was. I was merely doing a lap underwater in a swimming pool.

I was on vacation in a posh California resort hotel; the point this week was to lay in the sun and relax. A pool was part of the deal, but I had not swam for years. A few days earlier, I had tried to swim the entire length of the 50 ft pool underwater, but had to come up for air after making it about halfway across. On that attempt, I just got to a point where things got too uncomfortable, and didn't think I could stay under another second, and I surfaced. My failure to make it all the way across gnawed at me, so I decided that, by week's end, I would force myself to swim all the way across the pool without taking a breath. Now, deep underwater, smack in the middle of the 50 foot lap pool, this idea didn't seem like a great one.

From my perspective at the bottom of the pool, I could barely see the back wall: it seemed very far away. I had told myself when I sprang off the edge of the other side that no matter what, I would make it to the other side under water. As I continued to frog-swim, the urge to surface became stronger and stronger, taking over my entire mind and body in seconds. Last time I was in this spot, I had given in to the sensation and surfaced to take in a gasp of breath. This time, I made the inexplicable decision to push through this almost intolerable feeling: either I would drown, or make it to the other side. Popping up for air was NOT an option anymore. I had decided. Instead of taking the usual course of avoiding or relieving the torturous sensation I was feeling, I decided to stay with it.  I continued swimming. I didn't expect what happened next. Instead of the discomfort getting stronger, it stopped mattering. It was as if I was stepping through a dense fog into sunlight. I swam the remaining length of the pool, and glided calmly through the last few feet, my hand finally touching the wall. As I brought my head above water, I slowly took in a deep breath of air, without gasping or struggling. "What the hell just happened," I thought to myself?

Learning How to Suffer

I just finished reading Can't Hurt Me by David Goggins. Goggins is a social media sensation. He is an ex-Navy SEAL who went through the infamous SEAL Hell Week three times to qualify for the SEAL team, and then put himself through the Army Ranger qualification trial... twice. He later went on to compete in more than 50 ultra marathons. His childhood was horrendous, with an alcoholic father physically and emotionally abusing him repeatedly. Goggins' life has been chock full of SUFFERING. He couldn't avoid it as a child, but he actively sought it out as an adult. He details his SEAL qualifying trials, and recounts what would make 99.9% of us quit. Goggins not only pushed through, but inspired his entire team to make it. He recounts smiling through the worst parts of the SEAL qualification, to the extent that the SEAL trainers eventually gave up harassing his team and left them alone.

What is his secret? His relationship to suffering. Goggins correctly identifies our addiction to comfort as the greatest obstacle to achievement for most of us. We don't like being uncomfortable. Faced with something as small as having to shower without hot water, most of us get back in bed. We are afraid of pain of any kind. We cover it up or run from it at every turn. Goggins, for his part, runs TOWARD suffering, for he sees it as a chance to show what he is capable of. The book is a must read for anyone trying to become a better human being. The conclusion of the book is surprising... we will cover that in a minute.

By the time I had my pool experience above, I had been ruminating about Goggins' book and what it meant to me for weeks. And I think the message of the book played a role in my pushing through the fear and discomfort I felt at the bottom of the pool. Goggins says: when you feel like you have nothing left, and you are about to give up, you are leaving 60% on the table! He gives example after example in his own life when he persisted through impossible obstacles to reach his goal. Whether it was Army Ranger training, or a 100 mile ultra-marathon, Goggins mastered the goal of rising above self-imposed limits.

When I hit the figurative "wall" deep in the swimming pool, I saw it for what it was: a fake limit my mind was holding up in front of me. Like Goggins, I turned into the discomfort instead of running from it. To my surprise, the seemingly impassible obstacle was NOT REAL.

Depression is just another form of Suffering

Later in the week, I found myself feeling depressed. I'm not really sure what I was sad about, but it was the kind of sadness that makes the day look darker than it is. My usual reaction when this feeling comes up is to cover it up - with shopping, surfing the internet, housecleaning - whatever it takes to get it to go away. I wondered to myself, "Could this feeling be just like the drowning sensation I felt in the pool?" In other words, will it respond to my sitting in it instead of running away from it? I closed my eyes, and allowed myself to feel the sadness. The image came to me of a thick black cloud surrounding me, like an octopus inking the water around it. I smiled gently as I became aware of the resistance I had to this discomfort; I decided to just let the cloud stay and permeate my body. I didn't fight it, but just allowed it to be. And then, just as easily as the drowning feeling had passed in the pool, the cloud of sadness dissipated. I felt my body clarify and get lighter. The sadness was gone.

Moving through to the Next Level: Seeing the Reptile Brain

Why is it that we shun discomfort, sometimes to our own disadvantage? The answer is our reptile brain. We share this primitive part of the brain with our evolutionary ancestors. It's the part of the brain that allows us to reflexively pull our hand back from a hot stove even before we are consciously aware of the pain. This very necessary brain core keeps us safe so that we are free to focus our higher brain centers on more important complex tasks (like watching cat videos on YouTube or seeking out the best price on luxury bed sheets). We wouldn't last very long without the reptile brain. But unfortunately, the reptile brain can also run amuck; it can elevate simple discomfort to the level of a life-threatening threat, and cause us to alter our behavior even when staying the course is the best for us. The unconscious reptile brain can make us think we are under threat of life and limb when we are just a bit uncomfortable. It can only see the very next step; it doesn't think long term. For example, the unconscious primitive brain is why we avoid going to the gym, and what causes us to stuff our face long after we are no longer hungry. It thinks it is keeping us out of danger.

So for lasting life improvement, you have to recognize the false input from the reptile brain for what it is: tell it, "Thanks, but you can take a break this time. I got this!"

Next Steps

So here is a challenge for you. Choose something that you have been avoiding doing, but that you know would be good for you. Some examples are: jogging around the block, avoiding the compulsion to consume that entire bag of potato chips, working your taxes, or making that uncomfortable phone call. Commit to doing the task, then stay aware of the false messages from your reptile brain as you go through it. Trust me, a little discomfort won't kill you. When those inevitable thoughts and feelings arise, trying to talk you out of sticking to your committment, step out of the way and just observe. Don't fall for them.

Ask yourself, has the pain diminished?

If this little experiment works for you, then wake up tomorrow and try it again. Even though our relationship with discomfort is deeply programmed into our unconscious mind, I believe that we all have the ability to re-program. Pushing yourself through discomfort to your goal is a skill that can be practiced - a metaphorical muscle that anyone can strengthen through exercise.

I'll leave you with a quote from my mentor and friend, the late Dr. Herbert Smith:

"Suffering is most often the result of unskillful attempts to avoid unwanted experiences."

So what's the better solution here? To get more skilled at avoiding the uncomfortable things you know you need to do to reach your goals, or to learn to walk through the discomfort? It's your choice.

Faramarz Hidaji, M.D.